A Stranger on The Bench

Looking back, I realize my Italian adventure was not defined by perfect travel days. Instead, it was a series of unexpected challenges, each followed by an equally unexpected solution.

My trip began in Rome with hardly any hot water at my first Airbnb. Then came an ATM that refused to dispense my requested Euros, an eSim that did not work as advertised, a train strike, and not one but two major national holidays when it seemed half the country had decided to take the day off.

Just when I thought I had mastered Italy's transportation system, I discovered that "walking distance from the train station" meant something entirely different to my Airbnb hosts that it did to me. Double/triple check which train station they are referencing.

*Then There Was The Overnight Train To Sicily*

My cousin had carefully made sure I boarded the correct train in Rome, so I settled into my compartment confident the rest of the journey would be easy.

Having never traveled on a sleeper train before, I had read the “what’s included” for this train adventure. The description advertised dinner, refreshments, a midnight snack, and breakfast. I was so looking forward to this experience. Instead, I found myself in a small cabin with little explanation and a conductor who seemed annoyed by my questions. It quickly became apparent that this part of my journey was not going to match my expectations. I was on my own.

In the incredibly early morning hours, the train crossed the Strait of Messina. No one had explained that passengers continuing to Catania would need to transfer to another train. I sat quietly in my compartment, expecting the journey to continue as planned.

When I stepped into the hallway, I saw the rude conductor at the opposite end of the train car and was surprised when he yelled at me. "Get off this train, NOW!"

Completely confused, I grabbed Mr Bear, my knapsack, small suitcase, and stepped onto the platform. Within minutes the train was gone, leaving me standing in a terminal I had never seen before, wondering where and what to do next.

Walking into the terminal unsure of what to do next, I spotted a gentleman sitting on the one and only bench. Discovering he spoke English, I explained my situation. Surprisingly, he had overslept on the train and missed the Catania connection as well. What helped most was that he was from Catania and agreed to assist me in finding the address of my Airbnb. Again, not a 10-minute walk from the train station.

Only after he knew I had arrived safely to my building, did we sit and have an espresso. He spoke warmly of his city and insisted I try Pasta alla Norma and local Etna Rosso wine.

Looking back, my first memory of Sicily is not Mt Etna, the fish market, or the beautiful architecture. It is the warmhearted kindness of a stranger who welcomed a confused traveler and made sure she arrived safely. I encountered this same warmheartedness throughout my 38 days in Sicily. The Sicilian people are so compassionate, generous, and always willing to help.